


Maybe If The Stars Align

by jackie_01



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, But Rey fights it, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Friendship, Humor, Hunting, Jealousy, Kylo 'No Game' Ren, Kylo Ren Has Issues, More angst, Mutual Pining, Obsessive Behaviour, POV Alternating, Pining, Rey 'You Won't Catch Me' of Jakku, Romance, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren, Time Skips, Unplanned Pregnancy, star-crossed lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-02-26 16:33:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13239699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jackie_01/pseuds/jackie_01
Summary: Still he calls to her. Still he haunts her.When she’d left him to wake alone in that dingy hotel room on some unknown planet after they’d agreed to meet--when their connection had become too much to bear. When they’d laid down their weapons and fallen together, in their loneliness and craving and need.When she'd disappeared into the morning light, carrying his scent on her skin and her shame and penitence in her heart.And a new life in her belly, barely beginning.He still calls out to her.Forher.





	1. o n e

_Her adrenaline is running high on fear and she can feel her heart beating frantically against her rib cage and she's oh so very tired._

 

 _The planet is slowly imploding and she needs to go back for Finn and find a way off this dying, snowy rock. The ground is crumbling beneath her feet and she needs to get away but Kylo Ren keeps charging at her; swinging and thrusting with that destructive blade of fire and bleeding red. She tries desperately to fight back with a weapon that is not hers; the metal-handled weapon with it's crisp, blinding blue light. The weapon_ _she somehow_ _called to her the moment she woke up and saw Finn go down and not get up again._

 

 _She's never used a sword before, let alone a_ _**lightsaber** _ _. She's only ever had her quarterstaff to defend herself. But she's sure the mechanics are pretty much the same._

 

_Swing, thrust, slash, guard._

 

_At first it seemed like she had the slightest chance of a victory. She managed to get in half a dozen blows as she tried to push him back. She thought maybe she could disarm him, at least, while he's already injured to go back for her dying friend._

 

_But then something in him changed. He charged at her with strength he shouldn't have had in his weakened state and suddenly she's the one being pushed back. She had called him a monster, once. Maybe he was one._

 

_A monster clothed in black with a man's face._

 

_Her awkward, amateur swings parries Kylo's own savage hacking. She blocks every jab, every slice as she tries to maneuver across a dying planet, trees falling all around them as they fight each other whilst fighting to stay on their feet as the ground shakes. She lunges her blade at him in a desperate, last-ditch attempt to disarm him but their blades connect and he pushes, forcing her and her blade backwards with his as their lightsabers flare bright in blues and reds and purples._

 

_She hears when the ground behind her gives way. She spares a split second to look down and feels her heart drop in her stomach. A colossal chunk of what used to be a quiet, snowy forest turned into a massive, gnawing cliff and now she's hopelessly using what little of her strength is left to try and force Kylo back but he isn't moving, his hulking form looming over her._

 

“ _You need a teacher!” He shouts over the rumbling of the planet and the cackling of their blades. “I can show you the ways of the Force!”_

 

_She remembers looking up at him, shocked and baffled and disgusted that he would ask such a thing when he was clearly trying his utmost to kill her for taking the weapon he thought he deserved._

 

_Clearly it was some sort of sick joke. A lie to throw her off guard._

 

_But then, even after all these years, remembers his face when he said it. The way he looked at her with such hopeful, frantic need. The impassioned honesty in his tone as he pleaded for her to allow him to teach her, for her to join him. She doesn't deny now – or after and in the years to come – the earnest sincerity in his offers._

 

_Or how his words still haunt her when their minds first touched._

 

“ _ **Don't be afraid. I feel it, too.”**_

 

 

**~*~**

 

 

“Yah sure you ain't needin' no help with tonight's prep, Miss Rey? Nearly erry'one left a lil' while ago.”

 

Rey turned her head and looked up from the sink full of bread pans she's scrubbing and flashed a little smile at her assistant.

 

“You ask me this every night and I always say no.” She jests. “Surely you've learned by now not to ask?”

 

The human male put his hands up in defense, slowly backing away from the kitchen sink.

 

“Ah'right, ah'right. But ya should know after years o' workin' for yah, I'll always ask anyways.” He leans against the counter behind her, his arms crossed. “'Sides, it'sah a lot of work withou' prep'rations fer the fest'val comin' up.”

 

“And when the festival draws closer, I'll ask for help then.”

 

“But-”

 

“Oh, leave her be, Io.” A high-pitched voice shouts from the front room of the small bakery. “You know Miss Rey always handles the night prepping.”

 

A pale-green Twi'lek walked into the kitchen with a broom in her hand, her beautiful features pinched in annoyance as she brushed one of her lekku over her shoulder. She placed her free hand on her hip and jabbed the broom handle in the man's direction as if it were a weapon. Rey raised an eyebrow at her employee but said nothing, highly amused.

 

“Besides, you should be asking _me_ if I need help.” She snapped. “You always somehow _vanish_ into the back when the cleaning begins.”

 

Io gasped. “Do not, Shuri.”

 

“Do, too,” she snapped.

 

“Do _not_.”

 

“Do, _too_.”

 

“Do _not_.”

 

Rey shook her head and chuckled. “You both are children.”

 

Her assistants stopped their squabbling mid-sentence and turned to her, both looking affronted. Shuri, in particular.

 

“Are not!” They exclaimed in unison.

 

Rey sighed as she finished washing and drying the last bread pan and stacking it onto a metal rack with the other clean bread and pastry trays.

 

“Look, it's closing time.” Rey wiped her hands dry on her kitchen apron. “While I would love to listen to the both of you bicker, I have quite a bit of prep to do before I head home –”

 

“Which ya wouldn't hafta do if ya have help,” Io interjected in a way that sounded a _tad_ too desperate to Rey.

 

She ignored his interruption. “– _And_ while I appreciate the help, Io, offering to help me with other chores still won't change the fact that you have to take out the garbage.”

 

Io opened his mouth, ready to protest, but Rey gave him a pointed look that quickly shut him up and put an end to any protest. His shoulders sagged in defeat.

 

“But I hate taking out the trash...” He grumbled. “I _always_ take out the trash.”

 

“Maybe you wouldn't be stuck on garbage duty if you actually _did_ the chores I pay you do to. Like Shuri does.”

 

The Twi'lek stuck her tongue out at Io, flouncing out of the kitchen and into the front room of the bakery, her lekku swaying back and forth as she went. Io dragged his feet as he trailed after her, grumbling under his breath as he rolled up his sleeves.

 

Rey shook her head and grabbed a dish towel from the side of the sink.

 

She was surrounded by children.

 

 

**~*~**

 

 

The sky had turned to shades of purple and pink by the time Rey had nearly finished for the night.

 

She stretched her arms high above her and let out a sigh of relief at the sound of her stiff joints popping. Shuri and Io had (finally) left a little while ago, bidding Rey farewell as she stayed behind to finish up and lock up. Her employees always called her absurd. A dedicated worker but insane all the same for choosing to stay behind to do chores she could've easily had others do. She was the _owner_ , after all.

 

But Rey didn't mind. Her work ethic from her life on Jakku never truly left her. She doubted she'd ever shake off her roots. Plutt had put her to work the same day she'd been brought to him, abandoned – _sold_. She'd always risen well before the blistering sun rose over the sand dunes, slave and sweat for a mere half portion of polystarch – _if_ she was lucky – and head back to her AT-AT home once night fell to start all over again.

 

Her days still started early; she was up and out of her home before the three suns rose in the sky, and always stayed after her assistants left to prep the ingredients for tomorrow's batch of baked goods. Rey found it odd, even after all these years, that she could wake and sleep on _her_ own schedule. No one else's. She had her own business. She could work as many or as few days as she wished. But she enjoyed her job and helping her employees with 'grunt work', even if it meant she had to sacrifice getting home on time some nights. Even with a career as bland and horribly ordinary as becoming a baker, Rey loved her job and little bakery.

 

It was a huge change for a girl who'd grown up around machines and tweaking with compressors and ships and rusty speeders. Baking still gave her something to do with her hands, but it brought out something else. She liked the feeling of knowing she could feed others, and the genuine delight her baked goods brought to her customers. Her food made her customers happy. They've always told her as much.

 

Staying behind also meant she could have time to herself and reminisce about her life, from before and currently. Her friends that she missed. Her _family_.

 

And how she went from a scrawny little scavenging nobody and a Jedi-in-training to a baker–

 

Her thoughts were interrupted by the beeping of the chronometer on the wall. She looked up and the time read _18:00 ST._

 

Rey sighed. She was meant to be home an hour ago, and didn't want to be out too late.

 

Reminiscing would have to be left for later.

 

She grabbed her things and gave her bakery a quick once-over before locking up her little shop and began her journey home.

 

 

**~*~**

 

 

The trek through town was always an enjoyable one. She always passed by other shopkeepers closing up for the night who would either nod in acknowledgment or pass along a friendly hello, and she would give back in kind. The usually bustling town was always mostly quiet at night, save for the inebriated patrons that frequented the bars.

 

Mu Gemi was a planet far out in the Outer Rim. A quiet, fairly unremarkable little planet with rolling hills of green where it's capital city, Erindani, was known by nearby planets for its summer solstice celebration, The Festival of Starlight. It commemorated the summer months and was celebrated during the last week of the season, when the stars were at their brightest and clearest come nightfall.

 

The Festival of Starlight was in a month, and the weeks leading up to it were always a celebration. The festival also happened to share its day with _another_ special occasion that she wanted to start prepping for. She was always left exhausted afterward, but the happiness she'd feel was always rewarding.

 

Finn was meant to arrive in a fortnight with Rose to come help with the preparations and celebrate, a promise he did his utmost to keep the last few years. Oh, how she missed him. It'd been months since she'd last received a holovid from her dear friend, even longer since she'd seen him in person. She wanted to get the spare bedroom prepared for their arrival.

 

Ahead of her, she noticed several locals huddled around a small table of one of the town's numerous bars, whispering frantically in hushed voices. She didn't worry too much as to what they were doing. Their behavior gave off nothing malicious. But what did intrigue her was the varied range of anxiousness and worry radiating off them. She didn't need the Force to read between the lines and sense their distress.

 

As she passed by, she caught bits and pieces of their conversation.

 

“ – you think the rumors are true? There's no way –”

 

“ – Why would they wanna come 'ere? So far out in the Outer Rim. Don't believe it, we're safe here – ”

 

“ – they sayin' they a'ready got hold o' them Core worlds. Keep wantin' more, the greedy sods –”

 

“Damn the First Order. Damn 'em all.”

 

Rey stopped mid-walk and whipped her head around to face the small group that paid her no mind, too absorbed in their own conversation.

 

The First Order.

 

She hadn't heard that name in a _very_ long while despite her best attempts to try and forget. But she would be lying if she'd said she hadn't thought about them and their endless reign of terror to conquer the galaxy.

 

Hadn't thought about _him_ –

 

 _No._ She told herself, leaving no room for argument.

 

She refused to continue that train of thought. Nothing good will come of it; nothing ever does. She learned that the hard way.

 

She _knows_ better now.

 

Her good mood now gone, Rey hurried the rest of the way home. She walked at a brisk pace down a scarcely lit road, leaving the town and any thoughts of the First Order behind. She lived south of Erindani, in a small town called Caeli. Her home was situated not far from the community, about a half hour journey on foot. There was little to no crime so there were never any worries from locals about walking home late. At least, Rey never needed to.

 

Humming to a deviant little tune in her head, she continued her walk in relative silence, enjoying the warm summer breeze rustling through the trees lining her path. A cozy little home surrounded by a canopy of tall trees soon came into view and Rey smiled. Her home wasn't much compared to others she'd seen, but she had built it herself and took pride in the fact. It came with everything she'd need and a bit more. A kitchen, a dining room, a small sitting space, three living quarters and two refreshers.

 

Everything she'd need for a family.

 

As she made her way to the house, the front door swept open and a small body came bounding out, followed by smaller figures waddling closely behind.

 

“Mom! You're home!!” The little voice cried happily, and the smile on Rey's face widened.

 

She barely had time to place her things on the ground before the smaller figure crashed into her legs, little arms wrapping around her waist and refusing to let go. This was the only child she didn't mind being surrounded by.

 

“Hello, Arry.” Rey kissed the top of son's dark-haired head and hugged him back just as fiercely. “Sorry I'm home so late.”

 

“It's okay.” Her son looked up at her and grinned, and Rey felt her heart clench. “Auntie Ellie figured you'd be home late again so she started dinner.”

 

A heady, savory smell wafted from inside the house and Rey's stomach growled. “I can smell it. Did she complain about having to cook again?” She asked.

 

“I think she's still complaining.”

 

Rey shook her head and ruffled her son's thick, wavy hair.

 

“Doesn't she always?” She laughed.

 

Rey heard loud chirping at her feet and felt nibbling from tiny muzzles on her shins and leggings. Looking down, she was greeted with three sets of wide, round eyes staring up at her expectantly.

 

“Hello to you, too.” Rey smiled down at the porgs littering about her feet and they squawked happily, jumping up and down and flapping their little wings. “I know, I know. It's dinner time.”

 

Arric grabbed Rey's satchel and sack of sweet breads and pastries before the porgs could get to them and slung them over his shoulder as he made his way back to the house. Rey followed behind – followed closely by the porgs – and tried to listen to her son talk about something that happened with the family pets before she had arrived. She stopped at the front door and leaned against the door frame, watching her son set her things on the counter.

 

“Morg wouldn't leave Borg alone and they knocked over your fern. But I picked it up and put it in another pot, so it's fine!” Arric explained as he began to set the dining table. “And then Jorg had an accident in Auntie Ellie's boots and she got mad and said she'd cook him, but I told her-”

 

Rey tried to concentrate on her son's voice, but she found it hard with each passing minute. Hearing about the First Order never did anything good for her mood. Ever. It always brought up _feelings_. Feelings that in turn brought up thoughts of _him_.

 

Something she swore she'd never do again, despite her best efforts.

 

Rey couldn't help but notice that now that Arric was nearly ten, he was starting to strongly resemble his father, and she didn't know if it broke her heart and made her stomach flutter. Or both. Her feelings towards Be- _Kylo Ren_ were always complicated, no matter how many nights she tried to figure them out. It was either hate him or love him, but Rey found herself – more often than not, to her displeasure – in a middle-ground of loving _and_ hating Kylo and she, in turn, would end up hating herself for it.

 

Arric had her straight nose, high cheekbones, tanned complexion and wide smile, but as he grew up, she started noticing Kylo's slanted chin, his dark hair and wing-tipped brows, expressive eyes and plush mouth. Hell, he was starting to even sound like him. Some days, she'd think a young Kylo Ren were sitting at her dining room table doing his homework if she didn't know he was her son. The thought itself and the fact that he looked so much like his father _should_ sadden her, but a small part of her relished in it and she'd yet to figure out exactly _why_.

 

And _that_ is disturbing.

 

“ –om? Are you okay?”

 

“Huh?” Rey blinked. “What was that, Arry?”

 

Arric frowned. “I asked if you were okay. You kinda zoned out on me...”

 

“I'm fine, sweetheart.” Rey soothed her son, yawning as if to make a point. “Just a little tired; it was a long day.”

 

Arric's brow furrowed. “Here. Come sit down, then. I'll get you some water.”

 

He rushed over to her side and led her to the table and she let him, sitting down when he pulled out a chair and tucked it under her. He walked towards the kitchen, hollering at 'Auntie Ellie' that his mother was here and she needed something to drink. Rey smiled when she heard the tell-tale nagging of the other woman from the kitchen.

 

Her son reappeared with a glass of water and handed it to her, kissing her on the cheek and sitting in one of the empty seats on either side of her.

 

“You sure you're fine, mom?” He asked as he reached out a hand towards her. She grasped it.

 

“I am now. I'm back home with you,” she reassured her son and squeezed his small hand in a comforting manner. “I'll be alright.”

 

Rey just wished she could reassure herself.

 

 

**~*~**

 

 

_His presence still lingers, refusing to leave. She doubts he ever will._

 

 _Like a siren call, he beckoned to her._ _**Pleading** _ _with her to join his side._

 

 _Still he calls to her. Still he_ _**haunts** _ _her. Him and his sinfully tempting voice._

 

 _Even after she rejected his offer the first time by slashing his face and leaving him bleeding in the snow. Or the second time, when she left him unconscious in that burning throne room on the_ _**Supremacy** _ _, surrounded by their carnage. Or the few times after that._

 

_Or was it the last time she'd last seen him, years ago? When she left him to wake alone in that dingy hotel room on some unknown planet after they agreed to meet when their connection became too much to bear. When they laid down their weapons and laid together, in their loneliness and craving and need. When she'd disappeared into the morning light, carrying his scent on her skin and her shame and penitence in her heart._

 

_And a new life in her belly, barely beginning._

 

 _He still calls out to her._ _**For** _ _her._ _She didn't always hear hear him say her name, but she feels it deep in her bones._

 

_Maybe it really was the Force, then, trying to tell her something._

 

_Or maybe she was going crazy._

 

 _All she knows is that was the moment – when Kylo pushed himself into her head and she pushed back – was when it all began. In a cold, dark cell on_ _**StarKiller Base** _ _, two disparate pieces were irrevocably connected._

 


	2. t w o

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's Space Prince of Darkness up to?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my beta, Perry_Downing, for checking this over!! You're a doll <3

“ _Don't do this, Ben. **Please** don't go this way.”_

 

_The two of them stood several feet from each other. The once pristine throne room is canvased with warfare and slaughter, Snoke's bisected corpse as well as the bodies of his Praetorian Guards litter the ground. It is a wreckage of a battle fought and won, a testament to their victory and they should be celebrating, kriff it all._

 

_But the minute she called him Ben, none of that mattered._

 

_He remembers her face. He doubts he'll ever forget it. That beautiful face was crumpled with incredulity at his words like he's **said** something wrong, those hazel eyes brim with unshed tears as she pleaded and stared at him and his outstretched hand in disbelief like he's **done** something wrong._

 

_He didn't understand. He can't understand, he **won't**._

 

_Not when they're so close to fulfilling his vision of the future – their future. Not when he was **so close** to finally having her._

 

_He had thought she would understand. He had meant every word when he had told her to let the past die and asked her to join him. With Snoke finally out of the way and out of his head, it felt like he had taken a breath of fresh air for the first time in years. With Snoke gone, he could finally utilize the First Order's legions and realize Grandfather's unfulfilled dream; a galaxy united and in harmony after generations of conflict and bloodshed. He would create a new order of Force-users, one where it wasn't solely Jedi or Sith and their hypocritical philosophies. The Sith allowed their emotions to rule them whilst the Jedi had forsaken them, and where were they now?_

 

_No... the past would die and from its ashes, a new era would rise._

 

_And **he** would be at the helm, ruling over all of it from the now vacant throne as Supreme Leader – as Emperor._

 

_And he would do it all with Rey by his side._

 

_And yet here she stood, begging him and still clinging to the hope that pitiful, conflicted Ben Solo still lived on._

 

_That he would give up everything that had led him, led **them** , to this very moment. Could she not see that she had no future with the Resistance and its wretched little horde of Rebel scum? Did she not realize she was above it all?_

 

“ _No, no... you're still **holding on**!” he bellowed, his anger rising. “Let go!”_

 

_It was because of her past, he knew. Just as she clung to the misguided hope that he would return to the Light, she still clung to that pretty little tall tale that her family would come back for her. A beautiful, little lie she told herself._

 

“ _Do you want to know the truth about your parents?” He appealed, unable to fully mask the eagerness in his voice. “Or have you always known?”_

 

_She offered him no rebuttal, but looked as if she was on the verge of breaking. Because he **knows** her. Just as she knew him._

 

“ _Say it.”_

 

_He needed her to understand. Needed her to **see**. _

 

“ _Say it.”_

 

_Finally, she swallowed as she tried blinking the tears from her eyes. Deep down, she'd always known, his poor, precious girl. Deep down she'd always known that she – **his Rey** – was born to a pair of worthless junkers that had put more value on their next drink than their own flesh and blood. Selling her off to years of struggle, of waiting on an empty promise._

 

“ _They were nobody.” she said in a quiet, broken tone. Tears streamed down her face and he had wanted to reach out and wipe them away._

 

“ _You have no place in this story.” he pressed on. “You come from nothing. You're nothing.”_

 

– _this beautiful young woman with **so much** untrained, untapped potential that rivaled his own, this scavenging garbage picker that was **destined** for so much more – _

 

“ _But not to me.”_

 

_They were two sides of the same coin, the other half of each other's soul. He truly believed that. Their souls had first reached out when they first met in the forests on Takodana. The Force joined them together in the interrogation room on Starkiller Base when he'd first pressed his mind into hers and she's fought back. Snoke, the manipulative, conniving worm he was, had nothing to do with his connection to Rey. He knew that deep in his bones. The Force **willed** this to happen. The Forced **wanted** them together. _

 

“ _Join me,” he asked again, this time feeling all the more confident than with his first proposal._

 

_He had seen his vision. He saw the two of them, side by side. She would be draped in white silks, a striking but complimentary contrast to his black cloaks. She'd sit on a throne next to his own, both equals in every way. Together, they would strike down any and all that stood in the way of his vision, of **Grandfather's** vision. They'd bring true peace to the galaxy and balance to the Force the likes of which none had ever seen. She would never have to worry about being abandoned or pay any mind to those abject wretches that sold her off like a piece of scavenge ever again. _

 

“ _Please.” His voice was barely a whisper as he reached out his hand again._

 

_He felt his heart pounding rapidly, his throat constricted tight. Slowly, she reached a hand out to his, trembling ever so slightly the entire way._

 

_He almost couldn't contain the elation growing in his heart; finally, **finally** someone was choosing him. He'd **finally** have someone by his side that he could trust irrevocably, that knew him inside and out. That understood his fears, his weaknesses, his hopes and dreams._

 

_Soon their hands were **so close** to touching and his fingers twitched with an aching need to reach out and grab her hand and hold it in his own. But he wouldn't. He **couldn't**. She needed to meet him halfway. _

 

_He knew, he **knew** she would take it. She had to._

 

_But her eyes hardened like steel, her jaw clenched tight._

 

_And the Force exploded around them._

 

 

**~*~**

 

 

Kylo Ren wakes in his chambers, feeling jaded. He can't remember the last time he's had a decent slumber. Can't remember the last time he actually had a full night's rest, feeling refreshed.

 

He dreams frequently of Rey, he can't remember the last time he's closed his eyes and not seen _her_ face flash behind his eyelids, haunting him. Tormenting him. But he hasn't had _that_ particular dream in a long while. All he knows is that he dislikes it immensely, because even when he wakes, he can still feel his past self's rage, his _hurt_ at her rejection to stay with him. How it stung when he woke in that burning throne room, utterly alone.

 

Just as he is now, years later.

 

No, he prefers dreams where he can see her smile, hear her laugh as if he was right there with her. Or the ones that leave him aching. The dreams – _memories_ – of their time together on Vela, so long ago. He closes his eyes and can feel his body respond as he remembers. When he was above her and she below him and she looked _oh so beautiful_ with her glossy brown hair fanned over the pillows, those long, supple legs wrapped so tightly around his waist, refusing to let go –

 

_Beep, beep._

 

The datapad on his bedside table gives off a small signal. He rolls onto his side and taps it, a hologram message popping up. Here he is, daydreaming of his beloved Rey, and he's _needed_ on the bridge.

 

His mood gone, he heaves himself from his bed and heads to the 'fresher for a _very_ cold shower.

 

He hopes the day moves by fast so he can return to his chambers and dream.

 

 

**~*~**

 

 

He stands at the viewport overlooking the massive hangar of his flagship, the _Dominion_ , overseeing preparations for the First Order's latest campaign. The First Order's Security Bureau had received reports from their spy network of a coup at several First Order factories on one of their Outer Rim territories in the Uziel system. It was a simple task to complete, something a Fleet Admiral could easily handle and should be taking care of. It was definitely a task that he should pay no mind. But Kylo preferred to handle boots-on-the-ground missions such as these; it gave him a way to release all of his pent-up energy. He also knew his men enjoyed seeing him among their ranks, fighting alongside them and leading them to victory on the battlefield.

 

His council would have preferred that, as Supreme Leader, he'd stay away from the carnage, but a little “warning” with a wave of his hand put an end to any of their future oppositions.

 

“Supreme Leader.”

 

“General Kasius.”

 

Kylo turns his head, looking down and regarding the other man with an air of boredom. General Kasius was much shorter than Hux had been, just barely reaching up to his shoulder and average in looks. At times, he finds him quite boring, painfully so. However, he is a master strategist and wholly devoted to the First Order, having been one of the first on the High Council that supported his leadership when news spread of Snoke's assassination and Kylo's ascension. His tactical expertise was also invaluable to the First Order's cause, having been behind many successful conquests over the last nine years. Kasius had proven his efficiency and was therefore promoted to serving and answering directly to Kylo when General Hux's position became _vacant_.

 

However, there were rare times where he finds he misses the greasy ginger rat's presence and their heated banter.

 

They are fleeting moments.

 

“I'm pleased to inform you that we've exited hyperspace and are due to reach Norma within the hour,” the general briefs, his report short and precise. “The FN Corps have also already reached the capital city and are in position, and your Knights of Ren are awaiting further instruction on your command. The upgrades to your shuttle have also been completed and is ready for launch.”

 

“Excellent. Any news on the cause for the sudden misconduct?”

 

“I was told the factory directors were behind the coup and rallied the factory workers. It would seem the inhabitants are finding our occupation and your authority of the planet... _unpleasant_.”

 

“Hmm.”

 

Kylo's jaw twitches. 'Unpleasant', was he? Well then, he was just going to have to show the inhabitants of Norma just how _unpleasant_ he can be. By the time he was done with these ungrateful mutineers, they were going to wish they'd never stepped out of line with the First Order.

 

Another reason why he enjoyed carrying out missions such as these; occupied planets that found his regime 'unpleasant' tended to squash any thoughts of future acts of rebellion when the Supreme Leader handled the matter personally.

 

And oh, they would learn. They just needed a little discipline.

 

“Inform my knights I'm on my way to the hangar.” Kylo turns and heads to the lift. “Tell Captain Kal to begin the assault. Subdue the hostiles and kill any that fight back, but don't kill them all. And bring the directors in _alive_. I want to deal with them myself.”

 

“Supreme Leader.” Kasius' demeanor suddenly became strained, as if he were carefully approaching a minefield and wanted to watch where he stepped. “There was also another report.. I thought it best to discuss it with you in person...”

 

“About?” Kylo asked as lift's door opens.

 

“... The _Jedi_.”

 

He stops. He feels a shift in the Force. The general's bearing changes from tense to fearful, worried he's said the wrong thing and is waiting to pay the price. There's a pregnant pause as Kylo rolls the general's words around in his head, stepping away from the lift and turns slowly to face him.

 

“Come again?” Kylo demanded, his tone low.

 

Kasius swallows. “We've received a credible source about a sighting of the Jedi woman in the Western Reaches. The informant was certain it was her.”

 

He knows his face must be an open book. It's one of the many things he hates about it; how he is unable to hide his emotions without the aid of his mask.

 

He feels it again; that tell-tale constriction in his throat and chest and his heart beginning to beat rapidly. Those tell-tale feelings he'd felt when he first started hunting Rey down and turned up with _nothing_. He knows he shouldn't get his hopes up, even if the source has been deemed reliable. It's been _years_.

 

But maybe this time...?

 

No. He _won't_. He _can't_.

 

He _knows_ better now.

 

Knows he should never get his hopes up on an ultimately useless lead. He learned the hard way.

 

He breathes through his nose and grinds his teeth, his gloved hands clenched so tightly into fists the leather gloves crinkle loudly and his fingernails bite into them. Kasius stands stiff, a bead of sweat trailing down the side of his temple.

 

“Leave the matter for now.” Kylo grinds out, even as he feels his heart break. “Get more information from the informant on the tip and then send me the intel you have on the informant to my datapad. I want to be absolutely sure before we take any action.”

 

The general's shoulder sag, visibly relieved. “Yes, sir.”

 

Kylo nods and leaves quickly, wishing to be alone before his assault on Norma.

 

He tries to shove all thoughts of Rey to the back of his mind for later. It doesn't help.

 

She remains as he holds a public execution for all the traitors.

 

 

**~*~**

 

 

He's back in his quarters on the _Dominion_ , and he's bone-weary. The assault on Norma had granted him temporary emancipation from his impetuous thoughts of abandoning his mission all-together and taking his flagship to the Western Reaches.

 

The _very thought_ of seeing Rey again was tempting, even more tempting with the report, but he knows his decision to leave it be was the right one. As excited as he was earlier, he knows it would've been another wild goose chase.

 

He remembers the early days, the wasted years he spent chasing lead after lead, only to have his hopes slowly diminish again and again with each empty hunt. How he'd take his anger out on whatever world he was led to, on the unsuspecting populace. For were they not the cause of his heartache with each let down? He'd rage across each planet, conquering in the name of the First Order and moving onto the next.

 

But he knows better now to not put all of his hopes into a source.

 

He knows now to trust in his Force Bond with Rey more than any spy network or extensive intelligence operation he has at his disposal.

 

He collapses onto his bed and stares up at the ceiling.

 

The Force is both a benevolent and wicked entity, it seemed. He had been blessed with the most sacred of bonds; a bond that was rare even between Force-users, an attachment that transcended anything and everything, the very fabric of time and space... only to so cruelly have it – have _her_ – muted.

 

It was the only way he could describe it. She was there and yet... she wasn't.

 

He hasn't been able to see Rey in years.

 

He doesn't know _how_ it happened. It just... did. One moment, he could feel her presence, see her lovely face and then the next... nothing.

 

It was like Rey was hidden behind a wall of foggy glass, so close yet so far out of reach. At first he'd thought she'd managed to find a way to block him out of their Force Bond. But he quickly discovered it wasn't the case. At times, they were able to create a sort of barrier that barred them from seeing one other, but this was different.

 

It _felt_ different.

 

There was _some_ explanation, a solution to his problem but nine years flew by and he was still no closer to discovering said solution than he was to finding her.

 

There was very little he'd found on Force Bonds; nearly any and all Jedi texts on the subject were either destroyed during the age of the Empire or lost to time. All he knew was that they were only breakable upon death of either of the bonded individual and were incredibly rare.

 

He knew she wasn't dead. If she _had_ died – and the theoretical scenario is hard even now for him to consider – he knows he would've felt it. It would've been a knife to his heart, his soul being wrenched in two. Her side of the bond would be a cold, gaping space of nothingness and he knows he wouldn't be able to survive in a world where she wasn't in it.

 

Kylo's given up on chasing after every lead, even though it breaks his heart to do so.

 

He refuses to be let down again.

 

But, even though it's been years, he's never given up hope that he would see Rey again.

 

The chance that he would find her and have her in his arms, by his side... in his bed.

 

He would. He _will._

 

He knows it's only a matter of time. He's waited this long.

 

He'll wait forever, if he has to.

 

Letting exhaustion overtake him, he closes his eyes and dreams of hazel eyes and a wide, bright smile.

 


	3. t h r e e

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet 'Aunt Ellie'. She's an upstanding, model citizen.
> 
> Rey and Arric share a moment.
> 
> Rey asks 'Aunt Ellie' a favor.

_'Foul' couldn't even begin to describe the Smuggler's Moon. It was disgusting really._

 

 _In ways, the two planets were quite similar; Nar Shaddaa was like looking at Coruscant through a dirty viewport. The ancient, vertical cities stretched towards the stars like jagged spikes, nearly overtaking the view of the sky that was obscured by a thick layer of smog. The polluted air smelled like a garbage compactor that had been left to rot out in the sun for weeks,_ _**months** _ _even, and she made sure to tug the scarf obscuring the lower half of her face higher over her nose. The sordid streets were filled with the worst of the worst – mercenaries, outlaws and the_ _like,_ _she did her best to avoid overall eye contact with. The thought of putting Jakku's lowlifes on par with any one of Nar Shaddaa's outlaws was laughable._

 

 _However, in spite of all the depravity, Rey much preferred Nar Shaddaa over Coruscant's city of spires and over-priced penthouses_ _with_ _well-off elites sauntering about the clean bridges and exclusive resorts. As beautiful_ _as it was and how in a_ _we she'd initially been when she'd first visited the planet, she had seen the hypocrisy of the glamorous planet-wide city, the lies that hid behind the gleaming facade. Or rather, below it. She'd seen how the poor lived just below the surface in the seedy underworld, out of sight and out of mind of those that could afford a better life. How they struggled and scrounged whilst the elite went to fancy parties and spent unnecessary amounts of credits on the latest flashy airspeeder, beautiful clothi_ _ng,_ _and rich foods. Coruscant was all prosperity and glamour on the outside, but decayed and sullied to its core. Nar Shaddaa was rotten through and through, never giving off the impression that it was anything but what you experienced_ _firsthand_ _._

 

_Still, she'd much rather be anywhere than a planet that smelled like the backside of a –_

 

“ _Come, child. Keep up.”_

 

_Rey blinked and looked down at the tiny, ancient woman a little ways ahead of her. The little orange humanoid stopped walking and regarded her behind the large lenses of her goggles._

 

“ _We have_ _too_ _much ground to cover without you getting lost in that pretty little head of yours_ _,” she chided. “We haven't got the time for you to admire the scenery.”_

 

_Rey flushed. “Sorry, Maz.”_

 

_Maz Kanata clicked her tongue._

 

“ _Save your apologies for later, chil_ _d,” she_ _chided. “We're far behind schedule. Come along.”_

 

_Rey bit the inside of her cheek to refrain from saying the snide comment on the tip of her tongue but thought better of it and bound after the shorter woman._

 

 _'Now that's not_ _fair,’ Rey's subconscious drawled in the back of her mind. 'I bet she'd be cranky, too, if she didn't get enough sleep... But being wanted and on the run tends to have that effect, doesn't it?'_

 

_Rey grumbled._

 

 _The two had arrived on Nar Shaddaa in the early hours of the morning, early enough where there wouldn't be anyone up and about. It was at the request of their 'mystery host' that they arrive unseen at this horrendous hour. A 'mystery host' that Maz had refused to elaborate on whenever Rey had asked. If_ _**she** _ _had any say in the matter, they would've arrived_ _**after** _ _she'd had a decent amount of sleep. The last fortnight had been extremely difficult, hopping from one star system to the next, never stayin_ _g on any plane_ _t for longer than a day before moving on._

 

 _Rey remembered how she'd finally managed to fall asleep before Maz unceremoniously shook her back awake. They had only just left the Kallidah system and jumped into hyperspace. Maz was moving about the cabin of her starship,_ _**Epoch Swift** _ _, and gathering things, cramming them into a duffle bag whilst ordering her to shower and get ready for their next stop._

 

_After she'd come out of the 'fresher, she had found a set of clothes laid out for her – a sleeveless, high-neck tunic, a pair of tight-fitting trousers, knee-high boots and a thick outer coat with a large hood and scarf. She had been confused. She had wanted to ask why she had been given a whole new wardrobe, but Maz snapped at her to hurry along and get dressed since they would be landing soon._

 

_Rey felt like that was all she had been doing for the last two weeks. Given direction. Being lead about from one place to another. Taking one order after the other, unsure where she would be led to next. She hated being told what to do, especially when she had no idea what was to come next. She'd had years worth of being ordered about and told what to do by Plutt._

 

_However, these circumstances were vastly different._

 

_If she hadn't had Maz to take the lead, she'd have nothing to cling to. She herself wouldn't know what to do after what had happened. She wouldn't know where to go, except back to Jakku, and she had virtually no one to lean on. Everyone she had come to care about was either dead or scattered across the galaxy._

 

 _Or worse. **She** was the reason _ _why everyone she had come to care about was either dead or scattered across the galaxy._

 

_But she wasn't going to delve too deep into that train of thought._

 

_Instead, she focused back onto the task at hand._

 

_The reason why they'd come to Nar Shaddaa in the first place._

 

 _Rey followed Maz for what seemed like hours. For a humanoid as short and as old as she was, Maz Kanata seemed to have the vigor and stamina of someone in their prime. Rey did her best to keep up as the tiny being leapt and scaled and ran. Twisting and turning down alleyways and up the sides of buildings and rickety scaffolds;_ _jumping from one rooftop to the next. She nearly lost track of damned woman once or twice, if not for the long scarf she wore around her neck trailing behind her and giving Rey means to follow after her._

 

_She finally managed to catch up (short of breath, sweaty and exhausted) and joined Maz as she came to a halt at the end of an alleyway._

 

“ _We're nearly there_ _,” M_ _az warned. “Keep your face covered and keep close.”_

 

_The two walked out of the alleyway and onto the sidewalk of a sparsely populated district._

 

 _An_ _orange holosign hung above the district that read_ _**Corellian Sector** _ _in Aurebesh._

 

_The district was brightly lit by illumi-panels decorating the outside of buildings and numerous holosigns of varying size and color, bathing the area in a sea of color that Rey found quite pretty. It was a shame that the smell she'd come to associate with Nar Shaddaa still remained. It was fairly quiet, save for the electronic buzzing coming from the signs and pipes pumping out steam. The occasional local stumbled in their direction, clearly heading home from a night of partying and gambling. One or two individuals hung in the dark crevices along buildings, keeping to themselves and paying the two outsiders no mind. A few cantinas still remained open and from one of them, Rey could hear the faint, off-key warbles of happy drunks singing along to a tune she wasn't familiar with._

 

 _Maz turned into a long, low-lit passageway between two shops. There_ _was no one else down the path, save for a drunk sleeping on the floor, snoring wetly – whom Rey neatly avoided by stepping over their large form._

 

_They reached the end of the passage and were greeted with a large, rough-looking establishment. The red holosign that sat above the closed doors of the cantina was slanted and had probably seen better days._

 

 _**The Slag Pit**_.

 

_It certainly looked like a slag pit._

 

 _The metal outer walls were covered in old bounty posters, graffiti and dents, scratches and blaster_ _scorch_ _marks that looked as if someone had used the building as target practice. Or it had been the go-to place for a shoot-out and all-out brawl. Or all of the above. Trash was nowhere to be seen within fifteen feet of the building, so it seemed as if the owner prided themselves on keeping the area somewhat clean. On the wall beside the front doors, a message was engraved into the metal._

 

_**Leave any business and grudges at the door. Violators are subject to getting shot in the face OR losing hand or leg (up to the owner).** _

 

– _**AH**_

 

 _There was a pained groan_ _coming from a garbage bin and in the soft glow from the holosign's light above, Rey_ _could_ _see three pairs of legs (both human and alien) sticking out of the top of the bin. Many questions_ _began_ _to run through her mind. Like how she didn't notice three people were shoved into a small trash bin, and who was the overzealous individual (or individuals) that had done the de_ _ed?_

 

_Rey was about to inquire to her companion when Maz spoke first._

 

“ _No time to answer those silly questions, child_ _,” the little humanoid_ _explained, not bothering to turn back and address Rey directly. “But I am happy to say that we have finally reached our destination. Let me do the talking. Our host is unaware I'm bringing a guest and they'll be a bit prickly about that already.”_

 

_Rey snapped her gaze down at her companion._

 

_"What do you mean ' **not aware** '?" she whispered harshly. "I thought you said they told  **us** to come?!"_

 

_Maz shrugged, seemingly unaffected by Rey's rising irritation. "Might'a forgot to mention I was bringing you with me. No need to fret, child."_

 

_"You didn't think that would've been important enough to tell me?" Rey's chest and face grew increasingly hot as her anger rose. "What if they won't want to see us now? See **you**?  How do you know they won't have a whole army hiding, waiting to ambush us?"_

 

_"Rey."_

 

_"You just expect me to trust this person when I don't even know who they are! Hell, I don't even know **what** they are and yet you're prepared to drag me along to try and get help from them!"_

 

_"Rey."_

 

_"And how do you know they won't turn on you? How do you know they're not working with the First Order?" Rey knew she should keep her voice down to avoid waking the slumbering populace but couldn't find the patience within herself to care. She was tired of not knowing. She was tired of half-truths and empty promises. She was **tired**. "What if they try to capture us and turn us into-"  _

 

_" **Rey**."_

 

_In the blink of an eye, Maz was on the ground one second and the next, she was eye level. Rey felt a small, warm hand pressed firmly against her mouth and the pressure of Maz's small, booted feet and free hand as she gripped the worn flaps of her coat and set her little legs around her waist, effectively anchoring them together. Rey stared into the large, thick lenses of Maz's goggles, dumbfounded and slightly offended at the ridiculous approach Maz took to shut her up._

_"I **know** you're frustrated," Maz gave her a hard, beseeching stare that would've kept Rey quiet had it not been for the hand already covering her mouth, "I know you're tired of being led around like a bantha being lead with a carrot, blinding following and not knowing where you'll end up next. I don't need the Force to sense how you feel, it's written all over your face and how you carry yourself. You've been through so much already, my sweet child, and Leia and I have not helped by giving little answers to your questions. But we do this not because we do not trust you. We do this for not only your safety but other  **precious cargo**."_

 

_Rey felt her eyes water and her chest constrict._

 

 _"It's not fair that you've had so much placed upon your shoulders," Maz continues, removing her occupied hand from Rey's mouth to cup her trembling cheek, "but you are so strong. And I need you to keep being strong. I know that's not the answer you want, but it's the only one I can give right now. And I need you to trust old Maz when I say that I will keep you safe, for as long as I live_ _. Do you trust me, Rey?"_

 

_Rey swallowed thickly, blinking away the tears that gathered in her eyes and nodded._

 

_"Good. Now come along.”_

 

_Maz patted Rey's cheek affectionately before releasing her grip on her and hopping back down. Rey let out a shaky breath, wiping her wet eyes with the back of her sleeve and followed after the little humanoid as she led her to the side of the building where a door was located. Maz knocked once before a gruff male voice shouted from behind it._

 

“ _The boss already let ya off with a warning!”_ _th_ _e voice shouted, clearly annoyed. “Now slag off unless ya wanna lose those arms, ya bastards!!”_

 

_Maz rolled her eyes. “Open up, Rook.”_

 

 _The door opened a second later with_ _a rusted hissing sound._

 

 _At first, Rey saw no one. But then a fluffy tail came swishing_ _into_ _her vision and looking down, she was thankful for the scarf that hid most of her face as her mouth slacked open in disbelief._

 

 _The owner of the gruff sounding voice admittedly did_ _**not** _ _match the image in her head. She'd imagined a large, burly male covered in scars and maybe missing an ey_ _e, with a body_ _that took up the frame of the door. 'Rook' was the same height as Maz, though his long, bushy tail gave him a few extra inches in height. He was dressed in light-colored trousers held up by a leather belt and a sleeve-less top. She recognized his species, having encountered a few of his kind at Niima Outpost. He was an Amaran. They were known for their vulpine, bipedal appearances, and if his reddish-brown furry body, pointed ears and whiskered snout were anything to go by, he was definitely one of them._

 

“ _Well, I'll be a Sarlacc's uncle! Maz Kanata!” Rook guffawed as he threw his furry arms around Maz in a_ ~~~~ _tight embrace. She didn't return the hug with the same enthusiasm, but she patted him fondly on the back and chuckled at the warm welcome. “It's been far too long. What brings ya to these parts, ya old windbag?”_

 

“ _Nothing good, I'm afra_ _id,”_ _Maz said gravely, her mood serious again. “I'm here to speak to Hal. She knew I was coming. We wanted to keep our meeting private after what's occurred.”_

 

_Rook shook his head, sighing sadly. “Yeah, I heard what happened. Real shame, especially about Dameron... he was a pretty good kid –”_

 

_The Amaran's nose twitched and his beady, black eyes suddenly jerked in Rey's direction as if he had only just noticed her presence, and he looked her up and down with suspicion._

 

“ _Hey, who’s_ _the humie?”_ _h_ _e growled. “Does Hal know you brought an extra? Cuz ya know she ain't gonna like guests she don't approve of first –”_

 

“ _Let me worry about it. She's with me.”_

 

_With that, Maz strode passed Rook and through the door as if she owned the place. Rey followed close behind, neatly avoiding Rook's wary sniffing in her direction._

 

“ _No funny busines_ _s, humie,” the_ _Amaran snapped at Rey as the door shut behind her. She looked down at him, her brow furrowed. “Ya smell like a troublemaker. Best be on yer best behavior with the boss unless ya wanna join those idiots out in the trashcan. She'd be more than happy to make room for ya.”_

 

“ _Rook, be nic_ _e,”_ _Maz scolded over her shoulder. “I'd hate to have to shoot you again.”_

 

_Rook grumbled and cast one last glare at Rey._

 

“ _You know where to go! She's up in her offic_ _e,” he_ _said, turning away. “Don't say I didn't warn you about your unannounced guest. She's in a piss ass mood.”_

 

_Rey followed Maz through the darkened cantina as she led them to a staircase across the room. From what Rey could see, the place looked pretty okay. It definitely smelled better than it did outside, even if the smell of cigarette smoke was the most overpowering. The staff – a handful of humans, aliens and droids – ignored them and went about their business cleaning up the place. A stage was tucked in the corner, small tables and chairs were spread out and booths lined the walls, tucked in little alcoves that assured privacy. A circular bar area was located in the middle of it all. Another bar was situated along one of the walls, a well-stocked wall with rows and rows of bottles of different shapes and various colors of alcohol behind it._

 

_Rey was led up two flights of stairs and into a softly-lit hallway with numerous doors. They walked to the very last door at the end of the hall; a thick, heavy metal door made of titanium which Rey found a bit odd._

 

_Maz looked up at Rey._

 

“ _Are you ready, child?”_ _she_ _inquired in a hushed tone._

 

_Rey gave a small smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. “I'd like to think so.”_

 

“ _Remember, let me do the talking.” Rey's eyes must have given the impression that she was going to argue, because Maz quickly gave her a look in warning. “I mean it. Best behavior. Don't speak until I give you the signal.”_

 

_Rey's brow furrowed. “What's the signal?”_

 

“ _You'll know.”_

 

_Rey worked her jaw in annoyance but nodded in affirmation all the same._

 

_Maz nodded back and brought her tiny fist down onto the heavy door twice._

 

“ _I already told you, Rook, if those slagheads come back again,_ _ **shoot them**_ _!”_ _a_ _n agitated female voice shouted from within. “I'm not in the mood!”_

 

“ _I know, dear_ _,_ _” Maz chided playfully. “I just saw your handiwork outside.”_

 

_The heavy door swung open and a woman stood behind it. The woman was lovely, with deep-set brown eyes, a slender build, an olive tone complexion and waves of thick brown hair that fell passed her shoulders. A tight top exposed her arms and most of her midriff, her spandex pants accentuating her shapely legs. She certainly didn't look like someone who could shove three people into a trash bin, but Rey had been proven wrong before. She had a smile on her face, but that quickly fell when she realized Maz was not alone._

 

“ _Maz, what the frag –”_ _s_ _he hissed as she reached for the holster on her thigh._

 

_Rey's shoulders tensed as her feet shifted into a defensive stance, ready to fight. Her hand instinctively went to her lightsaber hilt hidden within the confines of her coat, but Maz had gotten between the two and held up her hands._

 

“ _I know, Arella. I know.” The tiny woman looked up at 'Arella' imploringly. “I know I didn't tell you, I know you don't like extra guests, but please. I called this meeting with you because you're one of the few I can trust with a request this important.”_

 

“ _I know, and I agreed to meet with_ _ **you**_ _. Not you and this_ _ **person**_ _,” Arella snarled, not taking her eyes off Rey who stared her down in return. “How do I know this isn't some assassin here for my head?”_

 

_Maz rolled her eyes. “You're far too paranoid, child. Do you really believe after all these years of friendship, I'd try to assassinate you at a time like this? With the First Order at our doorstep?”_

 

“ _You never know who your friends are these days. I had to space Roan last week when that pile of bantha shit tried to sell me and my men out to those bucketheads, claiming we were exporting weapon contraband.”_

 

“ _I thought you **did** export weapons?”_

 

“ _I do. Doesn't mean I like squealers.”_

 

_Maz sighed. “Arella, please...”_

 

“ _Fine! Fine. Just close the door behind you.” The woman_ _left t_ _he door open for them as she walked back into the office. “I'm only doing this 'cause I like you. But I want her hands where I can see them! Any funny moves and I'll cut_ _ **both**_ _off.”_

 

“ _What's with you and cutting off hands and legs?”_

 

“ _It leaves a permanent reminder.”_

 

 _Maz turned to Rey and gestured for her to follow, but she only shot Maz a panicked look that said 'You really want me in the same room as the weirdo that wanted to shoot m_ _e?!'’_ _She merely shrugged her shoulders, clearly used to this behavior, and walked into the office when Rey made no move to do so. She hesitated in the hallway for several moments, looking over her shoulder and contemplated for the briefest moment whether Maz would be understanding or hunt her down herself if she made a break for the ship._

 

_The latter seemed to win in every scenario that ran through her head._

 

_And Rey never pegged herself as a yellow-bellied peedunky._

 

_Groaning internally, and keeping a firm grip on her lightsaber hilt, Rey slowly walked into the office and shut the door behind her._

 

 

_**~*~** _

 

 

Rey smiles softly as she listens to her son happily recount his day. Morg sits nestled in the seat next to Arric, cooing and chirping softly as he strokes the top of his head and tells her what he's learned about in school when a voice in the kitchen entryway interrupts him.

 

“Well, well well... look's who's late but just in time for dinner,” the silken voice drawls. “ _Again_.”

 

Rey sighed. “Hello, Arella.”

 

Arella Hal's lovely face is fixed into a glare. She has a large pot and a covered serving bowl balanced on a tray in one hand and a warmed loaf of bread cut into slices on a wooden cutting board in the other. Arric jumps to his feet to help Arella, reaching for the bread when she lifts it out of his reach.

 

“Ah-ah. Go wash your hands.” She looks down at him and shoots him a disapproving look. “Don't think I didn't just see you petting that little winged beast before I came in here.”

 

Arric retracts his hands, the tips of his ears going pink as he mutters an apology and makes his way into the kitchen. Rey walks around the table and takes the bread from her in his place.

 

“Maggs down at the butcher shop got a case of rancor steaks, so I bought a few and made rancor curry and rice,” Arella says as she sets the tray in the middle of the table. “Decided to splurge a bit since I had to leave _my_ job early to pick up the kid because _someone_ had to work late.”

 

Rey rolls her eyes. “I said I was sorry. You know the festival is in a month –”

 

“And you know I hate going to Arric's school. His principal is a bumbling fool who can't keep his eyes to himself.”

 

“Come on, he's sweet.”

 

“If you think he's so sweet, _you_ go next time. He's an _idiot_.”

 

Arella wipes her hands on the front of her apron before shooting a glare at Morg.

 

“And _you_. I've said it a hundred times, I'll say it again,” she snaps. “ _No porgs at the table_.”

 

Morg hisses at her and flaps his wings in a hostile nature. She snorts before promptly brushing the little porg out of the chair and onto the floor. The porg hops to its feet and hisses once more before waddling off.

 

“You know, the porgs would probably like you more if you were _nice_ to them,” Rey reasons.

 

Arella's lip curls in disgust. “They're disgusting little beasts. Why would I want to be nice?”

 

“Because then you wouldn't wake up to vomit in your boots every other day.”

 

Arella lets out a petulant _hmph_ as she removes the lids on the pot and serving bowl. A hearty, spicy smell fills the room and makes Rey's mouth water. Arric bounds back into the room and takes his seat next to his mother's as Rey begins filling each of their bowls with large portions of curry and rice. All the while, Arella shoves complaints down Rey's throat.

 

“ … and then that fool, Moa the Moron, poured _fuel_ instead of oil in one of the oil baths for a droid that came into the shop. Who mistakes _fuel_ for oil?! Morons, that's who.” Arella snatches a slice of bread and takes an aggressive bite out of it. “I'm telling you, Moa can't tell a compressor from his own ass –”

 

Rey looks sharply at her. “ _Arella._ What have I said about swearing in front of Arry?”

 

“What? It's not like he hasn't heard me say that before.”

 

Rey rolls her eyes. “Look, I've been back home for only a short while and I've heard nothing but complaints from you all night -”

 

“But – ”

 

“All I'm asking is for a nice, _quiet_ dinner with my son. And by quiet I mean _you_. You be quiet.”

 

Rey fills a bowl and sets it in front of Arella, who folds her arms and slouches in her seat, pouting.

 

“I brought you a sack full of those custard breads from my bakery you like so much.”

 

Arella sits quietly for the rest of the evening as Arric continues telling the two about his day.

 

 

**~*~**

 

 

“Alright, my little scavenger. Time for bed.”

 

Rey is in her son's room, helping him tidy up as he gets ready for bedtime. Arric's room was a comfortable living size; it was one of the main rooms she paid extra attention to when she was building the house. She wanted her child to have a room her child self dreamed of having. It had plenty of room for him to play, with a comfortable-sized bed and neat shelves built on the walls that were filled with books and toys. The walls were covered in pictures he drew himself, photos hung of his friends and his mother and Finn and Arella and Rose. A desk sat on the wall opposite of his bed and next to it was a table full of appliances he's taken apart and work tools.

 

“Awe, but momma!” Arric whines as he struggles to pull his night shirt over his head. “I'm not tired!”

 

Rey smiles, setting his school bag and freight toy down as she sneaks up to him and begins tickling his exposed stomach. He squeals and tries to wiggle away from her hands, but his arms and head are stuck in the tangled mess of his shirt and all he can do is kick out his legs playfully as he tries to get away. Rey laughs with him as she continues to tickle his stomach, under his arm pits, his neck. His laughter is music to her ears and she thinks her heart might burst with all the love she feels for this child. She never wants him to stop laughing, never wants the joy she feels when she sees her son walk into a room to end.

 

After a few more moments, she finally stops her playful assault and her son sags against her, breathing heavily from laughing so hard.

 

She helps him untangle himself from his shirt and his head pokes out the neck hole as she tugs it down. His face is red and a bit sweaty, his thick, dark hair sticks out at different angles and she feels her heart jerk for a different reason. But then he smiles up at her and her heartache is pushed to the furthest part of her mind.

 

“Can you read me a bedtime story?” Arric inquires as he gets under the covers.

 

“Not tonight, I'm afraid.” Rey gets up and continues picking his toys up. “It's already late and you have school in the morning. _But_ I'll read you a story tomorrow night. How's that?”

 

He sighs woefully. “I guess.”

 

Arric turns away and continues to make pained sighs in such a dramatic way, Rey knows he's only teasing. She puts his toys back on their shelves and walks back over to the bed, tucking his blankets around him, making sure he's comfortable and warm when he sits up abruptly.

 

“Okay, fine. No bedtime story,” he says. “ _But_ do you know what's at the end of this month?”

 

Rey smiles. “Of course. The Festival of Starlight. Your favourite event of the year.”

 

Arric shakes his head. “Besides that, momma.”

 

Rey furrows her brow in false confusion. She taps a finger against her chin thoughtfully, her son gazes up at her expectantly. Suddenly, she snaps her fingers.

 

“Aha, there _is_ something else. How could I forget?” Rey declares and Arric smiles brightly. “The porgs need their bedding changed in their pen. It's been smelling ripe for days.”

 

His smile falls and his bottom lip pushes out in a pout.

 

“ _Mo_ _m_ ,” he gripes as he folds his arms over his chest in a petulant manner.

 

“I know, I know, sweetie,” Rey laughs and taps him on the tip of his nose with a finger. “It's your birthday.”

 

“Not just _any_ birthday, mom,” Arric explains as he lets Rey push him gently back into his pillows and resume tucking him in. “I'm gonna be _ten._ That's practically a grown-up.”

 

“And what a big grown-up my baby boy is becoming,” Rey sighs wistfully. “To think I used to change your diapers and clean your bottom –”

 

“ _Mom!_ ”

 

Rey smiles and ruffles his hair. “I'm sorry, Arry. I just don't want you to grow up. I want you to be my baby forever.”

 

“That's not possible, mom.”

 

“Not if I freeze you in carbonite.”

 

Arric sticks his tongue out at Rey, and she returns in kind.

 

“So. Your birthday. What about it?” she asks.

 

“Well, every year a month before my birthday, you always ask me what I want the most.” He sits up again and tucks his knobby knees up to his chest. “I've been thinking about what I want.”

 

“And?”

 

“I know what I want this year.”

 

“Oh really?”

 

“Actually... it's two things.”

 

Rey raises a brow. “What do you want?”

 

“... Can I have a blaster?”

 

“Absolutely not.”

 

“Just a small one?”

 

“Arella put you up to this, didn't she?”

 

Arric pouts. “Auntie says I'm old enough to have one!”

 

“And what have I said _not_ to do?”

 

“.... listen to Aunt Ellie...”

 

“Why?”

 

“... because she's mostly morally wrong.”

 

Rey shakes her head and stands. “I cannot _believe_ that woman told you to ask me for a blaster. Crazier that she thinks I'd actually say yes.”

 

“Aunt Ellie says asking never hurts.”

 

“And it was a valiant try.”

 

Rey folds her arms and shifts on her feet.

 

“What's the other thing? Please don't tell me you're going to ask for a freighter.”

 

Arric lies back down. “No. It's simpler, I promise. But I can't tell you yet.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because I wanna wait to ask on my birthday. It'll feel more special.”

 

Rey regards her son thoughtfully, and she almost wishes she could still use the Force to reach out and see exactly what he'll ask for. She would never actually do that, of course. She values her son too much to ever want to read his mind without his permission, and knows her anxiousness stems only from the feeling of not knowing. But one of the few things she missed about the Force was her Force intuition; it had always been sharp and never failed her. Now she had to rely on gut instinct. She wasn't always wrong, but she wasn't always right, either.

 

It didn't help that she still can't seem to shake the feeling of dread.

 

“Do I at least get a hint?” Rey asks finally.

 

“Nope.” Arric smiles widely, all dimples and teeth and Rey feels her worry dissipate. “You gotta wait.”

 

“Alright, then.” She leans over and presses a kiss to her son's forehead. He's warm against her lips and smells like grass and the sun, and it comforts her immensely. “Goodnight, Arry. I love you.”

 

“I love you, too, momma.”

 

He gives her one last grin before snuggling deeper under his covers and turning on his side.

 

Rey smiles softly and turns on the night light beside his bed. She gives him another kiss before standing and heading for the door. She presses the switch on the wall beside his door, turning off the main bedroom light and illuminating his room in cut-outs of stars and planets and comets.

 

Rey stands by the door for several moments, watching her son fondly. She stays until she hears the steady, even sounds of his breathing before quietly closing the door.

 

 

**~*~**

 

 

Rey finds Arella outside with her freighter in the landing area far behind the house. She's dressed in her old bounty-hunting gear, making preparations for her bi-monthly provisions run and doing last minute checks, making sure her ship is up and running properly.

 

Rey had always liked Arella's ship. She called it the _Madman's Fortune_ , and with her at the helm, it was a fitting name. An Allanar N3 light freighter, it was swift, reliable and conspicuous, with a few enhancements Arella had made herself.

 

Rey leans against the hydraulic piston of the open landing ramp, staring the other woman down as she keeps her eyes glued to the datapad, effectively choosing to ignore her accusing glare.

 

Rey folds her arms. “You're a brat,” she says. It's not an accusation.

 

“Think we already knew that. What I do now?”

 

“Did you really tell my son to ask me for a _blaster_ for his birthday?”

 

Arella refuses to look up, but the corner of her mouth jerks upwards in a playful smirk.

 

“I didn't actually think he'd ask for one.” She insists.

 

“But he did!”

 

“So are you gonna get him one, then?”

 

“Of course not! He's only _9_!”

 

“But he'll be 10 in a month.”

 

Rey scowls. “That's hardly an appropriate gift for a child.”

 

“I had one at his age.”

 

“Yeah, and look how great you turned out.” Rey feigns an innocent playful look at Arella's expression.

 

“You're no fun.” Arella pouts.

 

“Yes, well. Someone has to be the adult around here.”

  
  
“I'm an adult!”

 

“Says the grown woman who got into a screaming match with a _porg._ ”

 

Arella huffs and turns away, bending down to all but shove her datapad into her duffle.

 

“Arric swore he wouldn't say anything, that little liar.”

 

Rey laughs. “Really, though? A screaming match with a porg?”

 

“It's not _my_ fault those demonic space chickens have it out for me,” she hisses as she shoulders her duffle bag in an aggressive manner. “Always hissing and squawking in my direction, glaring at me with those big, creepy eyes. They _never_ liked me.”

 

“Can't see why.”

 

“Oh, ha-ha.” Arella turns and flips her long hair over her shoulder – Rey leans back casually, neatly avoiding her tresses – and heads up the ramp. “I'll see you in two weeks.”

 

Remembering why she'd come outside in the first place, Rey follows her.

 

“Wait!” she calls out. “I need you to do something for me.”

 

Arella turns and cocks her head. “Do I not do enough already?”

 

“I'm serious, Arella. It's important.”

 

Her worried tone seems to help her in her plea, because a second later Arella drops her bag in the ship and walks halfway down the ramp. She stops in front of Rey and gestures at her to continue.

 

“When you're... out there... I need you to see if you can find any information about... _them_.”

 

Realization of who Rey was referring to flashed over Arella's face.

 

“What about them?” She asks curiously.

 

“I heard something in town. A few of the locals.” Rey wrings her hands together – a nervous habit she's developed over the years – and shifts her weight from one foot to the other. “They think _they_ might be coming out here, to the Outer Rim.”

 

Arella snorts. “Not this again –”

 

“I'm being serious, Arella! They were talking about the First Order! That they were coming closer and closer to the Outer Rim, to where _we_ are –”

 

“If you're really hyped up over something Larm and his horde of paranoid drunks rambled again –”

 

“I'm serious, Arella!” Rey snaps. “They sounded worried. _Really_ worried. Scared. I didn't need the Force to sense their fear. And I'm... I'm _scared –_ ”

 

Rey suddenly draws in on herself, her throat tight and hands clammy and shaking and the back of her eyes prickle and burn. It didn't occur to her then, in town, how overhearing that conversation affected her, because she's pushed it far into the back of her mind. But now it's full frontal and she doesn't want to even _consider_ the possibility that the First Order could come here.

 

That it'll only be a matter of time before they find her home, find _her_.

 

That _he'll_ find her and Arric.

 

Because that has been her main fear, her recurring nightmare for the last nine years and seems to have no intention of slowing down. She fears that her peaceful, quiet life she's built for herself and her son will all come to a crashing halt. She worries that she'll wake up one day and find the planet engulfed in flames and carnage and ruin. That _he'll_ be at the front of it all, a wraith veiled in black with that monstrosity he calls a lightsaber at his side. Red and untamed and spiting fire.

 

She worries that he'll take her away. _Or worse._

  
  
He'll take _her son_ away and turn him to the dark.

 

She feels a pair of hands grasp her shoulders, shaking her. She's vaguely aware of Arella talking to her, attempting to comfort her and get her to focus. But her words sound garbled and muted, like she's speaking underwater.

 

Rey closes her eyes and tries to focus on her meditation training and breathing exercises with Skywalker. Though she can no longer tune in with the Force and the energy around her, she focuses on the one thing that always calms her down.

 

Her son, Arric.

 

 _Breat_ _he_ _in. Breathe out._

 

She remembers how beautiful he looked when he'd gone to sleep, his little face peaceful.

  
  
Breathe in. Breathe out.

 

She remembers his laughter, his dimpled smile and excitement when he'd seen her walk through the front gate of their quaint little home.

 

 _Breat_ _he_ _in. Breathe out._

 

Soon enough, she's able to focus solely on her breathing and the frantic beating of her heart finally slowing down. Counting to ten, she takes long, deep breaths through her nose and repeats the cycle three times.

 

She feels a hand rubbing soothing circles on her back and she looks up to find Arella knelt down beside her, concern written all over her face. Rey puts her hands on the ground and picks herself up – she didn't realize when she'd ended up on the ground.

 

Arella all but shoves a flask into her slightly trembling hands.

 

“Drink this.”

 

Rey frowns. “You _know_ I don't drink.”

 

“Pipe down. It's water.”

 

Rey throws her a look but mutters a thanks all the same, bringing the flask to her lips and taking a cautious sip. Water trickles into her mouth and suddenly she's feeling dehydrated. A minute later, she knocks back the flask and gulps down every drop.

 

“Feeling better?” Arella asked cautiously.

 

Rey let's out a satisfied gasp of air and wipes her mouth. “Y-yes, I think so...”

 

“Good, good.” Arella looks torn between relief and discomfort at the situation and Rey feels self-conscious. Arella was always awkward and looked terribly out of her element when it came to feelings, especially when it regarded other people, especially comforting them. However, Rey was thankful she stayed by her side and at least tried her best.

 

“You know...I...” The woman looks as if she's fumbling in her mind over what to say. “You know I woulda never brought you and Arric here if I didn't think this was a safe place to stay, right? I chose Mu Gemi because it's far out in the Outer Rim. It's not worth anything to those bucketheads. Barely a blip on their radar.”

 

“I know...”

 

“Like... we're... we're frie– I would _never_ put you _or_ Arry in danger. Never.”

 

“I know, I know,” Rey assures. “I just... I don't know. Just hearing about the First Order brought up old feelings and I guess it just made me freak out...”

 

Rey trails off and silence stretches between the two. The air around them is thick with awkwardness and discomfort. Rey suddenly wants to be inside her home and check on her son.

 

“Look, if it'll make you feel better, I'll stay on Nar Shaddaa for a bit.” Arella rubs her the back of her neck in an uneasy manner. “I'll ask my men and a few of my old contacts if they heard anything. See what I can get on my old network.”

 

Rey smiles weakly. “Thank you.”

 

“Don't mention it,” Arella shrugs her shoulders, trying to come off as nonchalant. “Seriously. Don't. Plus, I need a break from all this 'housewife' work, anyhow. You and the kid are driving me into the ground.”

 

“You love us.”

 

“I _tolerate_ you. Big difference.”

 

Rey gives her an exasperated look, one Arella happily returns. Arella does her damnedest to come off as uncaring, agitated and harsh, but Rey knows deep down, she has a soft spot for Arric. Especially when he'd flash his dimpled smile in her direction.

 

“Right, I'm gonna head off. Got a long journey ahead.” Arella gives Rey an awkward pat on the back and turns away, heading up the ramp quickly. “Get some sleep, Cheekbones.”

 

Rey smirks and steps back, watching the ramp lift and close with a loud _hiss_. She walks back towards her home as she feels the exhaust engines gush warm air through the trees surrounding her home and against her fleeting back and her short hair. She turns around just in time to see the ship hover for the briefest moments. From the viewport of the cockpit, Arella spots Rey and gives her a lazy salute as the the ship takes off over the little house.

 

Rey stands in her backyard as she watches the ship shoot off into the sky. She stays as it flies further and further away, until it's indistinguishable from the other stars in the sky.

  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arella is based on the actress Seychelle Gabriel.
> 
> And SO SORRY this chapter took so long. Real Life sucks like that. To get updates on when I'm gonna post the next chapter, be sure to follow me on tumblr: myjackiejackie01

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to my lovely friend and fellow writer, Perry_Downing, for looking this over and always encouraging to keep writing even when I feel down about it. It's because of your encouragement I kept going. Much love, my friend.


End file.
